


The Money Shot

by copyallcatsandacrobats (ordinaryalchemy)



Category: Psych
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, No pun intended, door to door sales pitch, just some dumb fluff, religion delivered straight to your home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3686487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordinaryalchemy/pseuds/copyallcatsandacrobats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn and Lassie, having just moved in to their first place together, receive unwanted visitors; Shawn gets rid of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Money Shot

It was weird, Shawn thought, standing in the hallway near a box of Lassie's books and listening to his boyfriend getting more and more impatient with whomever had rung the bell. They had just gotten out of the shower after having sex for the first time in their new place, and although Shawn had shouted, “Oh my god,” three times as he came, he'd never suspected it would work as a summoning ritual. Maybe next time he would try “Money!” and see if Publishers Clearing House was in the neighborhood.

“I said I wasn't interested!” Lassiter snapped. “This is private property and I've asked you to leave. Would you like to go for trespassing?”

“Young man, the word of the Lord doesn't trespass across the hearts of man unless you close yourself to Him.”

Shawn snickered. Ah, religious nuts. You could sell magazines and cookies door-to-door and people thought you were cute—provided you were in a uniform and were missing at least one front tooth—but when you started hocking the Jesus, people got pissy. Even Lassie, who had been raised Irish Catholic, but had left the church behind for his “own reasons” sometime during the first year he'd gotten into messy homicides. 

“That's it,” Lassiter was saying now, and when Shawn realized he was reaching for his cuffs, he hurried across the living room and popped around him, sliding an arm around his waist.

“Who is it, honey?” he asked brightly, secretly loving the sudden frozen expressions on the faces of the older man and woman holding pamphlets. “Oh, hi!” he continued. “What are you selling there?”

“It's—we're not _selling_ anything,” the man said. “We're just—we're from the First Congregational Church.”

“The word of the Lord is free to those who would hear it,” the woman added, a vertical line on her forehead as she looked Shawn and Lassiter up and down. “The good lord Jesus said to judge not. People can change. Are you... have you two considered Jesus?”

Shawn could feel Lassie tensing up again, but he made as if he was thinking about it before shaking his head. “That's sweet,” he said. “But we're not really into threesomes.” He held onto his expression as the woman looked offended and the man looked disgusted, and then he held out his hand. “Can I have a pamphlet?”

“You—thank you, we won't be taking up any more of your time,” the woman said quickly, taking a step back.

“That's fine,” Shawn said, extending his arm. “But can I have one? I was really going to read it.”

“Of course.” The man held one out and Shawn reached for it, but he held on to it when Shawn's fingers closed on it, waiting until he looked up at him. “There are always second chances, son,” he said. “Please read this over and contact us if you have any questions. Or if you're interested in... changing your ways. It's still possible that you can be in Paradise if you consider changing the... the company you keep.”

“That's weird,” Shawn said. “I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“Peter,” the woman snapped, and the man almost flung the pamphlet at Shawn before they both turned and began to quickly walk way.

“Rude!” Shawn said as he closed the door. “That definitely put a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to the welcome wagon. I think I might need a brownie.” He quirked at eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Or another visit from the meat wagon.”

Lassiter was staring at him. “ _Threesomes_?” he asked.

Shawn shrugged. “They're the ones always spouting Holy Trinity. Why, _are_ we into that? You've already proven yourself far more adventurous than I ever would have dreamed when we met, but I think that one really might send us to hell.”

“Oh... my god.”

“That's a start.”

Lassie rolled his eyes and took the pamphlet from him, scowling at the picture of the shining Bible and the adoring lambs around it. Shawn had never understood why some people felt the need to associate God with sheep. It wasn't like wool was divine or anything, but those little lambs sure were transfixed on the crucifix. Maybe that CAKE song had something—sheep went to heaven while goats ruled the Underworld. Satan apparently had goat horns, although Shawn had never gotten _that_ association either. He pictured a cartoony-red devil, complete with goat horns and hooves, chomping on a Campbell's can (the lite soup was _hell_ thy), and he grinned. 

“Why'd you ask for this?” Lassie asked.

Shawn shrugged. “I wanted something to read while on the can. Backup plan was to be used in a toilet paper emergency. Hey, those happen,” he added as Lassie rolled his eyes. “Be glad you weren't around for the 1-ply disaster of aught-four. Anyway, I also wanted to see if they'd actually give me one once they figured out that we were lovers in the nighttime. And during the daytime.”

“Or if they'd be too worried our blasphemous-relationship cooties were catching?” Lassiter snorted, crumpled up the pamphlet, and tossed it into a plastic sack with their take-out containers from lunch. 

“Please,” Shawn scoffed. “If you knew anything about cooties you'd know they come from girls. I think we're safe. Plus, I had my cootie inoculation at the prime age of nine. Everyone knows they're good for exactly twenty years.” He paused. “Which means I'm almost due for another. What do you think, Detective Doctor? Got a hot beef injection for me later?”

“You're an idiot,” Lassie told him, but he was smiling a little. 

Shawn grinned and stepped forward, sliding his hands around Lassie's sides and up his back. Lassie bent his neck down and kissed him, and before long Shawn was straddling him on the sofa, Lassie's dick pressing into his ass while his mouth worked at his neck, his teeth grazing just enough over his skin while the tip of his tongue caused delicious shivers to run all along Shawn's spine. Shawn moaned loudly, not caring because they had their own place now and he could be as vocal as he wanted, as loud as Lassie could cause him to be as he popped the button on Shawn's jeans and shoved his hand inside them. Shawn held on to him and closed his eyes, thrusting his hips forward and starting to pant as he felt it coming on. In their own living room, their own home together, Lassie suddenly dumped Shawn on the sofa next to him, yanked Shawn's jeans all the way off, slid off the sofa, and knelt on the carpet in front of him. 

When it happened, Shawn said it as loud as he could. “Money!”


End file.
